Fear of listening to the truth
For no particular reason, I am remembering this woman I met 20 years ago.
We liked mostly the same things, we had the same values, and we enjoyed most of our time together.
She was honest about who she was, and how she saw the world, and that was a very cozy feeling, finding that person that also enjoys sitting with to watch a Wong Kar-Wai film and then talk about the feelings that evoked. She enjoyed my weirdness, my very peculiar and idiosyncratic way of looking at the world and finding patterns.
But it was scary, because she was honest, her career was subject to regulation, and therefore the timelines were not subject to change on a whim, and any free time was precious.
So I broke it up.
I broke it up and ended marrying a person that hated my taste in media, hated leaving her small right wing town, enjoyed Sundays at church, but said all the right things that I wanted to hear. We kinda shared some values, but where the most glaring difference was, it was on their approach to the Other.
The one from long ago was respectful of differences, of disabilities, and differences. The one I married was - and is - ableist, disrespectful of those that are not like her, and not surprisingly, unwilling to learn new things that come from those that are not considered as authorities.
And I married her, because she said the things I wanted to hear.









